


tell me that you love me again

by dhils



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Getting Back Together, M/M, because they love each other don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 03:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhils/pseuds/dhils
Summary: “You can’t do this,” Nico says. “You can’tbe here.”





	tell me that you love me again

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this reeeeal quick just because i wanted some break up drama. i'm gay, okay
> 
> title from again by noah cyrus

It goes like this: Nolan and Nico aren’t friends. 

It’s not a great way to put it, not after all these years of a relationship building up between them, the sharp edges sharpened by experiences they’ve shared over all this time. The shit they’ve been through, it doesn’t do it any justice. _Not friends_. 

Nolan wishes there was a better way to put it, a better way to talk about how they’ve drifted apart over time, about how hockey got in the way of everything. It was arguments every other day, over the phone, over text, and fucking FaceTime. It was spitting malice back and forth until they ran out of breath. It was always misunderstandings.

It got to the point where Nolan picked fights with Nico just because he liked riling him up, because it fed this dark part of him pleading for drama, to torch something. And Nolan guesses that’s really where it fell apart at the seams. 

They hit that snag and never quite talked it out.

He decides calling them exes is about as valid now as it’ll ever be. 

 

 

It starts with two lovesick teenagers. With Nolan and Nico bubbling and overjoyed at the idea of being drafted. 

Or maybe it starts with a quiet Swiss boy and Nolan’s obnoxious personality pulling him in. Nolan needs something to level him out, someone to keep him grounded and tell him when all else fails that it’ll be okay. That he’ll be there. 

Or maybe it starts at the Top Prospects game. With the soft lull of conversation in their shared room, that sweet look Nico gives him when he’s leaning against the headboard of his bed. It’s when Nico touches his shoulder and tells him _good luck_ his voice softer than usual, that Nolan realizes he’s not imagining the way his heart flutters.

It ends with frustration and fights, and two pieces of the same heart shattered to dust.

It ends too quickly, too soon, too fucking easily, but Nolan thinks he might’ve seen it coming for a while now. Thinks maybe it might’ve been his fault. Which—it very well could’ve been. He’s messed with enough things to admit it without hesitating, but he still feels bad. Bad for wanting to hurt Nico, for wronging him like that. 

They were so good together. Two years. Two of the best years of Nolan’s life, and he gave it up like that. It’s amazing how that works, his own life managing to twist into something practically unrecognizable with one wrong word.

Or maybe it hadn’t been one wrong word. Maybe it’d been a string of bad decisions, a whirlwind of rights and wrongs all stirred into one big pot, but that’s just what relationships were for him. It’s how all of Nolan’s relationships were. He was a kid. He was stupid, and clueless, and _terrible_. It’s torture that this is the one he still can’t get over. 

He can vividly recall arguments and disagreements with all of his girlfriends, months of togetherness snapping on the spot, and that’s how it went. Or sometimes it was texts. A fucking break up text because apparently Nolan isn’t attentive enough. Or a voicemail Nolan listens to directly after a hockey game, one that leaves him torn open and broken.

But those were all temporary. They were sprains, and Nolan doesn’t know how to deal with much more.

 

 

Being in New Jersey doesn’t hold that same brightness it used to. It doesn’t feel like a second home, no longer a place he can drop by just to feel good again, to hold that little piece of his life right up against his heart again. 

He’s spent so much time in countless other cities, cities he can barely remember the names of, but New Jersey is something else. Or, at the very least, it _was_ something else.

Now it’s just dark and gloomy, and Nolan doesn’t think it helps that he hasn’t seen the sun in weeks.

When he rooms with Provy, he gets a look that definitely screams _don’t fucking dare_ , and Nolan’s not going to wander off like that, he’s not stupid. He’s not the type to go crawling back, but—visiting isn’t wrong. 

He just wants to be not _not_ friends. 

He ends up pulling on a sweater anyways and if Provy insults him on his choices, Nolan pretends not to hear. 

 

 

Three knocks at his door. That’s all it takes. Three knocks and Nico’s opening it with this tired look in his eyes. There’s a crease from what he thinks might’ve been a pillow across his face, and it clearly takes him a second to register Nolan standing in front of him. 

“Oh,” he blurts, and then his eyes go wide like he didn’t mean to say it. “I—what the fuck.” His voice is scratchy, heavy with sleep, and Nolan can still remember waking up with it next to him. Or humming along to the song playing on the radio. Or telling Nolan he loves him and. _God_.

“Can I come in?” Nolan asks. He knows he’s supposed to have a battle plan or whatever, in case this goes to shit, but he thinks just talking to Nico is all he wants to do right now. Just to hash this out. Without any hostility, without the poisonous feelings between them, just to apologize. 

“Uh.” Nico blinks at him before stepping back, opening the door a little wider like an invitation. Nolan toes his shoes off because he was raised right, and he swears he sees the faintest twitch at the corner of Nico’s lips. “Nolan—“

“I can explain,” he says, and he glances down at the floor for a split second, like it holds the answer. Nolan decides he can’t explain it.

“You can’t do this,” Nico says. He blows out a breath, it sounds irritated enough that Nolan feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. “You can’t _be here_.”

“I just want to talk,” Nolan insists, and he knows it doesn’t sound like he’s pleading. He’s not the type to beg, but there’s still the smallest upwards pitch in his voice, one that makes him sound needier, a hint of desperate.

Nico stares back at him. “Then, talk.“

“Tell me if you want me to leave and I’ll go, okay? But.” Nolan swallows, and Nico leans back against the door, his gaze sharper than knives. “Can I just say that I’m sorry? I didn’t want this for us. And I know it’s stupid for me to break now, for us to talk about this _now_ , but I want—to tell you sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Nico looks frustrated, and Nolan’s heartbeat immediately jumps. “You don’t deserve to be forgiven, you realize that, right? Nolan, you fucking—you made my life hell. It took me so long to get over you. I’m still—“ Nico cuts himself off, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor. “You can’t do that. It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you never answering my texts. Or picking up calls. Or barely even looking me in the eye when we play together,” Nolan snaps, and he can feel the fine line they cross between bickering and fighting. He’s supposed to be apologizing—shit. 

“That’s because it’s _hard_ ,” Nico says, and he scrubs a hand over his face. “It’s hard, Nolan. I’m still not used to this and you knew that—I _told_ you that. But you still have the audacity to come here and belittle me?”

Nolan winces. “That’s not what I was trying to do.” He tries to take a step closer to him, and he thinks maybe Nico would’ve stepped back if he had anywhere to go. “Nico, I want to apologize.”

“And, what? Be friends?” He laughs, but it’s breathy and shallow. “Are you kidding? I can’t even tell.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this,” Nolan says, and he tries sounding as genuine as he can. He wants to reach out and touch Nico, put a hand on his shoulder just to reminisce about just how well it fits. “Please, I’m sorry.” 

“And you think that fixes things,” Nico says bitterly. 

The thing is, Nolan knows it won’t fix anything. He’ll still have feelings for Nico. He’ll still be caught up in everything he does. He still won’t be over _them_. But it’s a start, Nolan thinks, if they try it again. “It won’t,” he answers bluntly. “Not alone, not unless we put the work in.”

“Yeah? You wanna put the work in now? Not when the distance got to be too much?” Nico looks so fucking stressed out, and Nolan doesn’t think he would let himself get away with apologizing either. Not without proving anything. 

“We were _kids_.”

“How do I know if anything’s changed?” Nico’s not glaring at him, but it’s something close. “How can I be sure that this won’t go down the same path it did last time?” 

“Trust me,” Nolan says. “I miss you, Nico. I want you back in my life, and I’m willing to do anything for that. I don’t even know—absolutely _anything_.”

Nico knits his brows together, and its an expression that isn’t exactly frustrated, but maybe Nolan’s just bad at reading him. “I don’t forgive you,” he says. “But I’m not going to hate you because of it. I never hated you. Not even after we broke up. If anything, I hated myself for not knowing how to repair this.”

“What?”

“I didn’t try hard enough,” Nico says coldly. “Not with you, or anything else, I could’ve done something, Nolan. But my problem is, I don’t know how to fix things.” He sighs, Nolan can _hear_ how cracked open Nico feels. “I just paint over shit, cover it all up. That’s just what happened. And maybe you have changed, but I don’t know _how_.”

“Baby, no,” Nolan frowns at him, his voice soft. 

“Don’t,” Nico argues, but he still melts against him when Nolan puts his arms around him. He still squeezes tight, holding him there and tucking his face into the crook of his neck. He’s still Nico. So broken and vulnerable and Nolan’s glad they have each other to get through this.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Nolan says against Nico’s hair. “But as long as you know I’m sorry, I can handle it.”

Nico breathes hot air into Nolan’s skin, but he stays glued to his side. “We both made mistakes” His arms are warm and Nolan wants to keep him there forever. “Just—it takes work to fix them.” 

“I know,” he says. “Let me.”

 

 

“Do you have any plans for the winter break?” Nico asks. He’s got his legs crossed on the couch next to Nolan, back rested against the arm rest. The way he cups his mug of tea with two hands is so familiar, sending Nolan back to when they would go skating together and Nico would trap his hot chocolate between his mittens just like that. But that was before. 

“Not really,” Nolan says. He’s taken Nico up on his offer for tea, but his is cooling on the table. “I mean, I could.”

Nico keeps his expression carefully blank, and Nolan thinks he hides anything that slips through behind his cup when he takes a sip. 

Nolan chuckles and leans the side of his head against the back of the couch, one leg folded up under him. “Hey, you remember that time we went to Toronto together, and that goose went and chased you around?”

Nico laughs, and Nolan thinks that might be the first genuine laugh he’s gotten out of him. The one with that telltale sparkle in his eyes. “I didn’t know it would do _that_ if I tried to feed it bread. I was just being nice.”

“Maybe it thought you were adopting it,” Nolan says, and he’s smiling. They always bring this story up when talking about breaks, but there’s something refreshing about hearing it again, coupled with that smile Nolan hasn’t seen in what feels like forever.

“Right, I’d be great with goose children.”

“You’re being humble,” Nolan insists. “You’re good with children in general, you know that.” He doesn’t mean to bring something like that up, not with how things are, but it seems to come out anyways.

Nico seems unfazed, but his smile falters for a moment. “I love them, but they don’t always love me,” he jokes, and then, “Nolan, I always wondered if—if we were still together would we, you know. Would we. With kids and everything. Some day.”

Nolan blinks at him, and Nico doesn’t look especially uncomfortable under his gaze, but he still seems like he’d rather have it directed somewhere else. “Nico...”

“I miss you,” he blurts, but it’s quiet, quivering as it rolls off his tongue. Nico looks so, so distraught about it, but it doesn’t take long for his expression to melt into something more melancholy. “I miss you. I miss us.”

“Oh, babe.” Nolan would reach out if he wasn’t cupping a mug, but he thinks Nico gets the idea because he puts it down on the coffee table. Nico takes one of his hands in both of his and shuts his eyes like he’s trying to imagine a time it didn’t have any negative connotations along with it. Before they parted ways.

He blinks his eyes back open and stares down at their hands. “Sometimes I thought, hey, maybe we can bring this back, right? But we never talked, we never—we just _didn’t_. And losing hope in that hurt so much more than anything else could’ve.” He makes a small noise and it sounds like a choked whimper. “I fucked up, Nolan.”

“Hey,” Nolan whispers, and he brings his free hand up to angle Nico’s head back upwards, a thumb swiping over his cheekbone. “You didn’t do shit, okay? You’re perfect, you deserve the world.” He slowly presses their foreheads together, and thinks about kissing him. 

“I don’t want the world,” Nico says into the space between their lips, his eyes are downcast. “I—I want us again. If we could just try, if we could do _something_. Nolan, are we—could we do that?”

“We’re not kids anymore, right?” Nolan says. “We can handle that. If you want this, we can make it happen.”

“Do you—“

“Yes,” Nolan answers. “Yeah, yes, always.” They exchange small smiles.

 

 

When Nolan kisses him, it’s nervous. They’ve done this before, they’ve gone so much _further_ , but it’s almost as if Nolan is still figuring out whether or not he can do this. If Nico will even let him. 

That need to be together, however, all the ignored feelings and piling emotions come through after Nolan realizes this is okay. And they end up clutching to each other on the couch, a little jolt of warmth running along his spine. It’s not surprising, how much he’s missed this, but Nolan’s still a little stunned at how eager Nico is about it. 

Nico’s always been better at concealing emotions, always soft-spoken and polite, always good. Nolan’s wanted him back more than anything.

When they pull apart, Nolan’s breath is coming out a little harsher. 

Nico wets his lips. “I liked that,” he says, like it’s the first time they’ve been pressed together like that. Nolan still appreciates it.

“Yeah,” he says. “It was good, really good.”

“You wanna—“ Nico looks hopeful, this little glimmer on his face. It’s beautiful. “Again?” 

They spend a lot of time kissing on the couch, and it doesn’t further than that, but Nolan’s okay with it. He’s happier than ever to be allowed to take another shot at this, a second try. Not a lot of people get those. 

Nico’s hands do make it under his shirt though, and they stay there for the longest moment, warming up against Nolan’s skin, and it feels like home.

When Nico tells him he can stay the night, Nolan does.

 

 

“You wanna come by after the game?” Nico asks, the sun is just barely streaming in through the curtains in his room, flushing out the grey light, and his hair is a mess. Nolan reaches out to touch it just because he can, and because he’s still hazy from sleep.

Nolan smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

Nico kisses him again, and it’s nothing far from last night, sharing sleepy kisses and falling asleep next to each other. “See you tonight,” Nico says. “‘m gonna miss you.” 

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” Nolan tells him, laughing. 

Nico hums and says, “I’m glad you came by,” and Nolan’s response gets swallowed up between their lips.


End file.
